


Wicked Game

by heavydiirtysoul



Series: Underneath your clothes - crossdressing au [1]
Category: Twenty One Pilots, Tyler Joseph - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Anyways, Basketball!Tyler, Crossdressing, Gen, Kid Fic, and of course i had to make it angsty smh i am Awful, generally a really cute thing so have fun peeps!!!, i just really wanted to explore the beginnings of the whole thing?, infamous crossdressing tyler is back, it's nothing too bad but i want yall to stay safe ok, oh before i forget small thing with homophobic speech at the beginning, yay!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 20:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7816915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavydiirtysoul/pseuds/heavydiirtysoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler is just a kid, but that doesn't keep idiots from commenting on what he wears.</p><p>or The One Where Tyler Is A Basketball Princess</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wicked Game

Tyler's hands were clasped safely in his mum's, and still, he couldn't help the breathless sobs. The bright, ice-cold light of the neon bulbs above were blurred, somehow washed out through the curtain of tears pooling in his eyes, and his mother's voice barely got through to him. 

„Shh, honey, shh. I'm here, baby, I'm here.“ 

The aisle of the supermarket seemed to be miles long, and everything was very, very far away – if he were to reach out, he was sure he'd just grasp into thin air. 

His mum pulled him close, kneeling before him, her hands weighing down on his shoulders, and he couldn't hold her gaze, eyes focused on the ground, counting the little squares of tiles beneath his feet while his mother said things, comforting things, probably, but he couldn't listen. All he heard were the laughs, the ridicule, the slurred insults. 

„Look at that fag! Weirdo, wearing girl's clothes. I bet he's super gay. Gross. Let's go before his weirdo sickness can get us!!“ 

They'd barely been older than him, and his mother almost shouted at them, telling them to go where the sun never shines, and what, were they raised in barns?! If I ever see you with your parents, God help me. And they bailed, laughing and yelling and falling over each other with their venom tongues and trippling rat feet and words like weapons, and Tyler held onto his mum for dear life, violent sobs still shaking his tiny body, with even more force now. 

„I'm disgusting“, he finally mumbled, pressed out words like knives, his face closed off and his brows furrowed, and he tore on the yellow sundress he was wearing as if it was suddenly burning his skin – which it was, metaphorically, it felt like it; stinging and hot and burning and so, so wrong on his body, his male body, what had he thought wearing this? 

He could've known that this was bound to happen, that others would think he wasn't nromal. He wasn't normal, after all, now was he? Wearing dresses and pretending to be a princess with his sister when he should be outside in the dirt with his brother throwing mud or eating sand or whatever his dumb younger brother got up to these days. 

But here he was, in a pretty (disgusting) dress and white shoes and he hated himself, for the first time in his life – and that's a moment noone ever forgets again. It would nag at him, slowly eat him away, drown him everyday, and even his mum hugging him, soothing him, rocking him back and forth couldn't scare away the little voice telling him what a disgusting piece of … He didn't even dare think it, but the echo was there, and he pressed his lips together tightly, wriggling out of his mum's grasp with a whine, crossing his arms in front of his chest, stubborn voice. 

„I want to go home, right now.“ 

He still felt like crying, but he wasn't five anymore, he was ten now and really grown up and grown ups didn't cry, ever. So he fought the urge down, chained it into a very dark corner of his mind, and even though his breath was still hitched and unsteady in his chest, he didn't shed another tear. 

***

It wasn't until almost a year later that Tyler decided to wear a dress again. 

A lot had happened since that fateful day at the grocery store – he had started playing basketball in a desperate attempt to do something that his friends and the people at school would consider manly and masculine and worthy of a man's time and attention. He knew it was ridiculous, and at first, he felt completely and utterly wrong, surrounded by other thin, lanky, mostly taller than him ten year old boys in lose shirts and basketball shorts that all seemed to still be too big to actually fit, but to his own and everyone elses surprise, he quickly found a liking to the sport. 

Everyone said he was probably too small to be a decent player, but he worked harder, harder than most, shooting hoop after hoop after hoop in his freetime at home – his dad had put up a metal hoop above the garage for him, and he was the only one out of his team that could actually play on a field with regular high hoops, and not the ones a little less high up specifically for children. 

He was proud when they decided to make him Captain, even though it was more of an honorary position than one with actual decision making power - but he loved the feeling of belonging and being one of the boys, and most days he'd forgotten all about his admittedly quite difficult start into the school year. 

***

They'd been training for the local derby against the other school in their district for months now, and Tyler could proudly say that he felt like they were ready. Even though the last few weeks had been hard, practice after school almost every day, barely any freetime, studying for his first tests, he felt accomplished.

He barely had time to just go out and play, be a child, but he pushed through it, on the brink of powering himself out completely. His parents were worried, but he assured them he was fine; and whenever they saw the spark of passion for his team in Tyler's eyes, they were comforted enough to let him do what he had to. 

The day of the game was closing in rapidly, and the night before, Tyler couldn't sleep. His heart was pounding out of his chest, hands sweaty and clammy and he was sure his hair would have been sticking to his forehead, hadn't his mother buzzed it short earlier that day. He could hear the cicadas outside and groaned – only people not actually living in an area with cicadas could describe their sound as soothing or comforting. For Tyler, they sounded like angry insects and nothing more, and he pushed his pillow over his ears with an annoyed sigh. 

He wouldn't get any sleep tonight, he already knew; but he could at least try and give his body some rest when his mind couldn't find any.

***

They beat the other school by only three points, but that didn't dim the rush of happiness, excitement and maybe disbelief in the slgihtest. 

„We did it!“, shouted everyone, their trainer, their parents, giving them standing ovations and waving the school flags as tiny basketball players bounced around the field, yelling and laughing and beaming with pride. 

Tyler found himself embraced by his teammates, a huge pile of limbs and smiling faces and panting chests next and over him, and he felt almost suffocated with the overwhelming feeling of victory. It was ridiculous, really, but when they accepted the small, golden trophy with the name of their school engraved, he knew he wasn't the only one wiping away small tears from the corners of his eyes, trying hard to make it quick so noone would notice. 

He was only eleven, but he was on top of the world.

***

And then they got home. He still felt as if he was floating, light as air and filled with happiness as weightless as sun dust and fairy dances, and after he had taken a long bath with his younger brother, accompanied by his sister sitting besides them, letting her rubber ducky jump on the wild waves her brothers made, he fell onto the couch with a big grin and a loud huff, cuddling up against his mum. 

„Today was soooo great!“, he immediately started again, and his mum laughed and nodded proud smile plastered on her face. 

„You did a magnificent job out on the field today. You just wait, one day you'll be with the NBA, and you'll be a famous basketball player. And then you'll look at me and say, Mum, you always knew me best.“ 

He laughed along with her, even though he doubted that he'd ever say his mum knew anything about him. He liked his mum, most of the time, but she was also annoying and strict and didn't let him have ice cream for breakfast – so he couldn't quite see himself agreeing with her about something so big anytime soon. 

They kept cuddling on the couch for a bit, Tyler enjoying the exhaustment slowly ebbing away and being replaced by the familiar sleepiness one always fell in after a warm, steamy bath and a tiring day, and he yawned heartily and snuggled closer to his mum, who pressed a featherlight kiss to his hair before ruffling through it. 

„You should go to bed, honey, it's been a long day.“ 

She hadn't carried him upstairs in a long time, but now he could feel himself being lifted up from the couch, lanky legs dangling against her sides as she carried the lightweight up and into his bed, tucking him in and pressing another kiss to his forehead. 

„My wonderful basketball boy, mh?“, she said, pride beaming in her voice, and after they quickly said their good night prayers, she turned off the lights – all of them except his tiny night light in form of a pink unicorn, a gift originally intended for his sister, but she didn't like it too much, whereas Tyler loved it – the switch was quickly made, and everyone was happy. 

Tyler couldn't help the soft sigh as he watched the soft, pastel light, snuggling into his pillow some more, trying to get the suddenly appearing thoughts of pink dresses out of his head. 

***

He gave up after half an hour of tossing and turning and sighing, swinging his legs out of the bed and into the chilly air of his bedroom – he liked sleeping with the window cracked, so he made his way over to close it, shivering with the cold breeze on his skin, giving him goosebumps. 

He knew he still had some dresses hidden under his bed, and as he knelt down, he could feel the familiar rush of giddy excitement again, even though slightly tainted by the dark memories of the last time he'd worn anything remotely girlish. But today was not a day to be sad – he had just won the game, and he wanted a reward (Jimmy was the one who got the chance to keep the trophy this week, and Tyler was definitely a bit mad about that), so he pulled the cardboard box out from underneath his bed, stopping in his tracks only for a moment to listen carefully. 

He couldn't hear any noise in the house except for the distant chatter of a tv talk show, so he figured it'd be safe to proceed. 

He opened the box, fidgeting with the various pieces of clothing in there – the yellow dress (he'd never wear that one again, ew), one in a deep shade of purple, and a crimson red one with a huge bow on the back. Those had been his favorites, and in honor of his team's win, he decided to go with the team colors – red and white, just like the last dress and he slipped into it carefully, but with still practiced movements. 

He struggled a bit with the zipper in the back, but eventually managed to pull it up all the way, and when he met his own gaze in the mirror, the happiness from before amplified in his body. 

It was a pretty dress, and Tyler felt just as pretty wearing it, and as he twirled and danced through his room, careful to tiptoe and not make too much noise, his smile was bright as light and honest. 

He wouldn't talk to anyone about this, not even his mum, not even his sister, and absolutely never ever ever to his brother (that dibcrab never understood anything, anyways), but by the end of his third dance, he knew he'd make this count. 

This was his one night, his one chance to wear what he really wanted to wear all day, and he decided that the excitement and rush he got out of this were much bigger now that he knew he could only do it once a year, once, when he deserved the reward.

As the dress was tucked away carefully again and he had changed back into his Firefighter Sam pajamas, he was still smiling. I'm a basketball princess, he thought, and I'm on top of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> that's all, folks!!  
> no, it's really not - i have a feeling there is still lots and lots and lots to be told about lil tyjo and I shall proceed writing this AU because well, tyler in dresses is reason enough for me. 
> 
> as always, shoutout to the #duncumsquad!!
> 
> PROMPT ME @ jcshxdun.tumblr.com


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